


Under Your Spell

by MotherOfSnakes



Series: Loki & Louise [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Loki Has Issues, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Say My Name!, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfSnakes/pseuds/MotherOfSnakes
Summary: A woman interested in Norse mythology gets more than she bargained for when she seeks out Loki in New York. (Set during The Avengers).





	Under Your Spell

 The streets were deserted in the gathering darkness of evening. A wide area of New York around Stark Tower had been evacuated in case of an event like the one in New Mexico the previous year, when a gigantic fire-breathing robot had practically levelled a town in its attempt to destroy Thor.

 Thor, the god of thunder, who had come to Earth straight out of Norse myth. I had always been fascinated by these legends, so had been thrilled to learn that some, or perhaps all, of them were true. I had wanted to meet Thor, talk to him, find out everything about Asgard and its inhabitants, but only days after his arrival he had vanished. Now, though, his brother Loki, the god of mischief, was here.

 Loki had turned up in Germany, wreaked havoc at an opera house, and disappeared. Now, a few days later, he was in New York, having taken over Stark Tower, home of Iron Man himself, Tony Stark (nobody knew where he was right now). It was said Loki intended to conquer the world, and, through some sort of magical mind-control, was making noted astrophysicist Erik Selvig construct some complicated device for him on the roof, which was apparently going to help him accomplish his goal.

 While everybody else was fleeing New York, I jumped on a ’plane from my home in England and headed there as fast as I could. I had missed my chance with Thor – I wasn’t going to miss out on meeting Loki this time. Of course, he was supposed to be a sadistic megalomaniac, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this – how often does one encounter a god? I was nervous, naturally, but I had to try.

 I didn’t particularly care about whatever fate Loki had in store for Earth. The world had never been kind to me. I had no family or friends to speak of, and I’d never had what I’d call an actual relationship. I had brief, unsatisfying affairs that usually ended in tears. I was lonely, always, but somehow none of the men I became involved with were ever able to give me what I needed to ease the emptiness inside me. Over the years I had become disillusioned, cynical and frequently disgusted with the way my species conducted itself – the wars, the corruption, the destruction of natural resources, the pursuit of money at all costs. It seemed to me that a god from another realm couldn’t be a worse ruler than our own leaders. And if the world burned, maybe it deserved to.

 Right now, as I walked through the empty streets towards Stark Tower, I was more worried about gangs than I was about Loki. While most people had left, some of the criminal element had remained, looting, fighting and killing each other with impunity. As a short, slender young woman I felt very vulnerable walking though the city alone. I carried a knife tucked into my belt just in case, but deep down I doubted it would be much help if one of the gangs got hold of me.

 As I neared Stark Tower, the sounds of conflict reached me from somewhere up ahead. Angry shouts and screams of pain echoed through the streets, mixed with the clang of metal on metal and the thud of heavy objects striking human flesh. As I drew nearer, I saw firelight flickering on the walls, combined with moving shadows that clashed violently in time to the noise of battle. Keeping to the darkest alleys, I moved carefully towards the source of the commotion. Eventually, peering out from behind a partially-collapsed wall, I looked out onto the street in front of the tower. Fires blazed here and there in the surrounding buildings, lighting up the scene in the street, where around thirty people, wearing colours that indicated two rival gangs, were attempting to exterminate each other. The road was streaked with blood, and already several bodies lay lifeless on the ground.

 Unexpectedly, the double doors that formed the entrance to Stark Tower were flung open, flooding the row of steps that led up to them with light from within. Framed in the doorway was a dark figure, silhouetted against the bright rectangle behind it. A tall, lean man strode forward into view and paused on the top step, surveying the chaos before him. He had sleek, raven-black hair that fell to his shoulders, and was dressed head-to-toe in black leather, highlighted with green and gold. A long green cape billowed from his shoulders, and he carried an oddly-shaped sceptre set with a glowing blue orb. It was Loki.

 Up until now, I’d only seen snapshots of him on T.V., all filmed from a distance. I recognised his clothing and the supremely confident way he carried himself, but I’d never seen him so close-to before. He was handsome, in an intimidating, angular sort of way. Somehow, I hadn’t expected him to look like that. I’d expected someone similar to Thor – blond, bearded, muscle-bound. He couldn’t have been more different, and I wanted to get a better look at him. I emerged from behind the wall and crept closer, ducking behind abandoned vehicles, as he descended the steps into the street. He moved like a big cat stalking prey, at once graceful and deadly. I could see his face clearly now – high cheekbones, straight nose, chiselled jaw. His eyes were a pale, piercing blue, like ice. I felt an immediate attraction to him.

 As the brawling gangs finally noticed Loki, stillness and silence settled slowly across the street. People stared, not sure what to make of this strangely-dressed man who strode so calmly into their midst. It was obvious they had no idea who he was. He came to a halt in front of two gang members who, moments before, had been doing their best to kill each other. Now they stood, gawping at the would-be king.

 “What is the meaning of this disturbance?” said Loki smoothly. He did not raise his voice, yet somehow it carried to every corner.

 “Private dispute,” said one of the gang members roughly. “What’s it to you?”

 “The noise displeases me,” said Loki ominously. “You will desist and disperse at once, or suffer the consequences.”

 “Suffer the ...?” the man trailed off, shaking his head. “Fuck you, fancy man. You goin’ _down_.”

 As he spoke the last word, he lunged at Loki with the knife he’d been holding. Faster than I would have believed possible, Loki’s sceptre flashed out, sweeping his feet from under him and sending him crashing to the ground. Loki pointed the sceptre at him. A burst of fierce blue light blazed from the orb set into it, struck the man ... and vaporised him. Where he had been, not even dust remained. There was a gasp from the assembled throng, followed by angry yells as two of the dead man’s fellow gang members charged forward, intent on avenging their comrade.

 One of them was waving a another knife, the second brandished a heavy length of wood. As they converged on Loki, he coolly dealt the first a powerful blow to the head with his sceptre and, as he dropped unconscious to the ground, swung his free hand at the other. As if by magic – indeed, almost certainly by magic – that hand suddenly held a dagger, which he buried in the man’s chest. The man fell, stabbed through the heart. Yanking the blade free, Loki finished the unconscious assailant by slitting his throat. The casual violence of it took my breath away.

 “Anyone else?” growled Loki, glaring round at the other gang members. There was a flurry of activity as the remaining gang members stampeded from the street. I had moved out from behind the car I’d been using as cover during the encounter and now, still overwhelmed by what I had witnessed, I hesitated, unable to take my eyes off the imposing figure of the god of mischief. Watching the crowd depart as though scanning for further trouble, his ice-blue gaze swept across me and, noticing I wasn’t moving, lingered. He began walking towards me. My heart suddenly pounding with fear, I backed quickly away and, not looking where I was going, tripped. I fell in a heap.

 Moments later, a pair of leather boots, the end of the sceptre resting between them, came into view in front of me. Cringing, I looked up. Loki stood over me, both hands wrapped around the sceptre, supporting his weight on it as he leaned forward to study me. His dagger had disappeared, and there was a faintly amused expression on his face. “Well now,” he drawled, “what do we have here? You are not one of this rabble, I think.”

 “Um ... no, I’m not,” I mumbled, looking down at his boots again, afraid that eye-contact might be interpreted as insubordination. Then I realized he was probably used to being addressed by some kind of title – what did one call a god? I hastily added a selection of honorifics: “Sir. My lord. Your highness.”

 Loki placed the base of the sceptre under my chin and tilted my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You know who I am,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

 “Yes. Sir.”

 “And tell me, my dear,” said Loki genially, “what’s a pretty young thing like you doing out alone in such ... perilous circumstances?”

 “I’m ... I’m ... nothing, sir,” I faltered. I was just now realizing the danger I had put myself in by coming here. He might kill me on a whim if I admitted to searching for him, to having the audacity to think he might answer my questions.

 Loki tapped my cheek with the butt of the sceptre, not hard enough to hurt, but not far off it. A warning. “Do not lie to me,” he hissed. “I am the master of lies. I always know. Tell me why you are here.”

 I swallowed hard. There was nothing for it but to tell the truth. “To be honest, sir, I was looking for you,” I said.

 “Indeed?” said Loki, sounding surprised. “For what purpose?”

 “I wanted to meet you, sir. I’ve heard tales about Asgard and its gods all my life. To learn you were real was ... amazing. I wanted to know more about you, sir.”

 “Is that so?” said Loki, sounding thoughtful. “Well, soon I will rule this world. Perhaps you mortals should learn something of your new king. Come, you may spend the night in this tower I have appropriated.”

 A thrill of fear, excitement and something I didn’t want to acknowledge pulsed through me at these words. The god of mischief was asking me to stay with him! He was agreeing to talk to me! I was at once delighted and terrified. This was why I had come here, to speak to him, but I had just seen him kill three people effortlessly. I was afraid to go with him. I was afraid not to. And despite the fear, I _wanted_ to go with him.

 “Thank you, sir,” I said.

 “You’re quite welcome.” Loki smiled wolfishly, displaying gleaming white teeth. “What is your name?”

 “Louise, sir.”

 “Up you get, then, Louise. Follow me.”

 I scrambled to my feet and scurried after him, almost having to trot to keep up with his long-limbed stride as he walked back across the street and up the steps. We passed through the double doors into the largest and most luxurious building I had ever seen, much less been inside. I’d have expected no less from Tony Stark, the billionaire playboy.

 Loki led me up several flights of stairs – I assumed there must be a lift, and wondered briefly if Loki knew what lifts were (did they have lifts on Asgard?), but I dared not speak. He waved his hand and a door opened without him touching it. I followed him through it into what was obviously Tony Stark’s bedroom, or one of his bedrooms. A gigantic bed stood against one wall. The wall opposite us was entirely made of glass, a giant window overlooking the street. Most of the remaining wall was taken up by a well-stocked bar, though there was another door at the end of it that presumably led to another room.

 “Sit,” instructed Loki, pointing not to the stools in front of the bar but to the bed. I perched myself nervously on the edge. Loki leaned his sceptre against the bar, and proceeded to remove his cape and boots. Wearing just a leather tunic and trousers now, he came and sat next to me on the bed, rather closer than I was used to people getting. I tried to inch surreptitiously away, but he caught my wrist in a vice-like grip and, before I really knew what was happening, pulled me roughly against him and pressed his lips to mine.

 I reacted instinctively, jerking away from him and drawing the knife from my belt before I had time to think about it. I dived across the bed and crouched against the wall, my blade held protectively in front of me.

 “You won’t be needing that,” said Loki, completely unruffled. “I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the reverse, in fact. I know you mortals enjoy lying with each other in pleasure just as we Asgardians do.”

 I could feel myself blushing. Was _that_ why he’d asked me here? For sex? I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. Frightened, certainly, but also … flattered? I couldn’t deny that I found him attractive. Very attractive. What would it be like, to have him inside me? A tingle of arousal ran through me at the thought, and I realized that I wanted to find out.

 “We do, sir,” I mumbled in embarrassment. “It’s just that I ... I wasn’t expecting ...”

 “You are fortunate to have caught my attention,” Loki cut me off. “I can show you pleasure the like of which you’ve never known. Few mortals are lucky enough to feel the touch of a god.”

 “I thought we mortals were beneath you, sir,” I said quietly, remembering a news report on the incident in Germany. He had apparently made quite a speech there about how we humans were made to be ruled, and he to rule us.

 “Oh, you’ll be beneath me soon enough, Louise, my dear,” said Loki with a wicked grin that made me blush all over again. “Now put the knife down.”

 I didn’t move. I couldn’t quite bring myself to surrender my only weapon. At least not just yet. This was a dangerous man – god – and I’d got myself in over my head. Loki stood up and retrieved his sceptre, twirling it skilfully between his fingers as he strolled back to the bed. “Do you know who I am?” he asked me.

 “Yes, sir,” I replied. “You’re Loki. The god of mischief.”

 “Yes. But more than that, I am your king. Everything and everyone on Midgard is now subject to my rule. That includes you. So when I tell you to do something, you do it, is that understood?”

 I nodded tensely, too afraid to speak now, wondering if I was about to suffer the same fate as the three men in the street. “Put the knife down,” he said again. When I hesitated, he lashed out with the sceptre, cracking me hard across the knuckles. Involuntarily, I let go of my knife. I snatched at it as it clattered to the floor, but he had already swept it out of my reach with the end of the sceptre. Picking it up, he placed it and the sceptre on the bar, and returned to sitting on the bed. He beckoned for me to come closer, saying: “Let’s try again, shall we? You don’t have to be frightened. I promise you, it’ll feel good.”

 I took a deep breath, trying to will away my fear. I tried to tell myself I had no choice but to co-operate. Some men would simply have taken what they wanted by force, with no care for my feelings – Loki could certainly have done this, through sheer strength if not through his fabled mind-controlling powers, yet he was trying to reassure me. That was something, wasn’t it? And perhaps it _was_ an honour to be wanted by a god. However I tried to justify it to myself, I knew, deep down, that I wanted him. I’d wanted him from the moment I’d first set eyes on him in the street. That was the feeling I’d refused to acknowledge when he asked me to go with him – desire. But there was no use kidding myself any more.

 “Come over here and kiss me,” Loki ordered. When I hesitated again, he grabbed at me, and there was a whirl of lightning-fast movement. I found myself suddenly on my feet, Loki behind me. One of his arms encircled me, crushing my body against his, whilst his free hand seized my chin and tilted my head to one side. He leaned down and placed a series of light kisses along my neck. His lips were cool, like those of someone who had just been eating ice-cream. A shiver that was partly fear but mostly enjoyment went through me and, alarmed at how quickly my body was responding to him, I bit my lip to hold back a moan. Then he was saying, softly but firmly, in my ear: “Cease this pretence of reluctance. I know you want me.”

 He was right, of course – I _did_ want him. I was putting up token resistance because I felt it was expected of me – nice girls didn’t just jump into bed with men they’d just met. Or men who killed people. But then again, he wasn’t a man.

 I tried to turn in his arms, but he tightened his grip, preventing me from moving. “Say it,” he rasped.

 “I want you, sir,” I whispered.

 “No more _sir_ , I think,” Loki said. “You are my plaything, my pet. You will call me _master_.”

 Heat pooled in my belly at these words, and I realized with a shock that his dominance was increasing my desire tenfold. Had anyone else spoken to me like that I would have considered it offensive, but it felt right coming from Loki. From him, I craved it. _This_ was what I’d been missing in all my previous affairs. _This_ was why I never felt satisfied in my encounters with men. I’d never realized it before, but I wanted to be mastered. I’d had to look after myself for so long, it felt good to give up control and let someone else take responsibility for me. Loki’s power, the fear he inspired, fuelled my libido. Obediently, I said: “Yes, master.”

 He spun me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine again. Quivering with what was now nine parts lust to one part fear, I kissed him back. One of his hands went to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he kissed me harder. Panic welled momentarily in me at the feeling of being restrained, but the next instant a wave of carnal need swept it aside as his tongue – also oddly cool – teased my lips apart, seeking entrance to my mouth. I gave myself up to his embrace, meeting his tongue with mine, my arms going round his neck almost of their own volition.

 Loki broke the kiss, leaving me hungry for more. I felt hot and breathless. My heart was racing, and there was dampness between my legs.

 “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” said Loki with a smile.

 “No, master,” I said. “I … I liked it.”

 “Good,” he said. “Now remove your clothes.”

 Feeling self-conscious, but keen to please him, I obeyed. I could feel his eyes on me as I stripped. Once naked, I stood before him, looking at the ground. When he didn’t speak, I risked a glance up at him, and flushed to see him gazing unashamedly at my nude body. I wouldn’t have thought ice-blue eyes could smoulder, but that’s exactly what his were doing. There was something predatory in that bold gaze that was both frightening and erotic. His eyes travelled all over me, almost devouring me, then met mine. I looked away.

 “Look at me,” Loki instructed. The moment I lifted my head, he flicked a hand casually and his leathers vanished into thin air. He stood there as naked as I was. For a second I tried to look only at his face, but it was impossible, and I gave in to my urge to look at everything. His erect cock jutted up against a taut, flat stomach. His body was lean and sinewy, his skin smooth and pale. I unthinkingly reached out to touch him, then drew my hand back before making contact, unsure of how he would react.

 “You may touch me,” said Loki loftily, as though granting me a great favour.

 I reached for him again, running my hands over his chest and down his abdomen. Like his mouth, his skin was cool, cooler than normal – but then, what was normal for a god? Beneath the smoothness of his skin his muscles were as hard as stone. He felt like he had been carved from marble. He caught hold of my hand and guided it to his cock, though I scarcely needed the encouragement. I curled my fingers around him and began sliding my hand up and down. He made a soft ‘mmm’ sound in his throat that thrilled me to my core. I longed for him to touch me in return. I had never been so aroused in my life.

 As if reading my thoughts, Loki leaned in close – close but not touching – and purred: “Do you want something, my pet?”

 “Yes, master,” I answered at once.

 “Tell me what you want.”

 “You,” I said, hearing the pleading note in my voice and not caring. “Your hands. Your mouth. Your cock.”

 He laughed softly, and bent to kiss me. As his mouth met mine, his hands began to roam over my body, cupping my breasts and squeezing gently, his fingertips fondling my nipples. I shivered uncontrollably, partially from the coldness of his hands, but mostly from pleasure. One hand trailed lightly down my stomach, moving maddeningly slowly towards the place I ached for him to touch. Then, abruptly, he pulled away, breaking the kiss and stepping back from me. I groaned aloud with disappointment.

 “All in good time,” said Loki, grinning his wicked grin. Then his face became stony and imperious. “Kneel before me, mortal,” he commanded.

 I did as I was told, sinking to my knees in front of him. This position put me only inches from his cock. I wanted so badly to lean forward and take it in my mouth, but he had not given me permission. I waited.

 Loki took hold of his cock and tilted it towards me. “Pleasure me with your mouth,” he ordered. I bent forward and let the swollen head slip between my lips, suckling gently on it. Loki seized a handful of my long, dark brown hair and pushed me further down, forcing more of his cock into my mouth. “Harder,” he said huskily. I complied, tightening my lips around him, and he groaned as I began to suck him in earnest. The knowledge that I was causing him to make those sounds aroused me still further.

 Loki began to buck his hips, thrusting into my mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat. His breathing was growing ragged and he was tugging roughly at my hair as though he didn’t realize he was doing it. I knew he was close, and the thought of the god of mischief coming in my mouth almost drove me over the edge.

 “You see, mortal,” Loki panted, “this is your natural state – on your knees, serving your king. And you _like_ it, don’t you? You enjoy your subjugation.”

 I was in no position to answer, but he wasn’t wrong, at least not in my case. I moaned around his cock in an attempt at agreement. In response he let out a sudden, deep groan of pleasure – and the first jet of his seed splashed onto my tongue. Like his body, it was cool rather than warm. That shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did, and my automatic response was to try and pull away. Loki gripped the back of my head, holding me still as the rest of his come spurted into my mouth. When he was done, he growled: “Swallow it.”

 I wasn’t overly fond of the taste of come and didn’t usually swallow, but he was my master and he had given me a command. Besides, it was erotic to think of a god wanting me to swallow his seed. I swallowed it all.

 Loki’s tense muscles slowly relaxed and he got his breathing under control. He released me and withdrew his cock from my mouth. I remained on my knees, waiting for him to tell me what to do next, when a new fear suddenly struck me – not that he was going to hurt me, but that he was finished with me. He had climaxed, and surely that was all he’d wanted – why would he bother to satisfy me, now that he’d had his fun? There was an aching need throbbing in my sex, and I thought I might just go mad if he told me to leave without doing anything about it.

 Loki reached out and stroked my hair, soothing the places he’d pulled in his passion. I sighed under his hands, closing my eyes. “Good girl,” he said, as though speaking to a dog. I’d have found this demeaning coming from anyone else. But not from him. “It’s time for your reward now.”

 My eyes snapped open and I looked up at him hopefully. Did he mean ...? Before I could contemplate any further, he scooped me up from the floor as easily as though I weighed nothing at all. He carried me to the bed and placed me down on my back, then straightened up and stood gazing down at me from his full, impressive height. He was still hard, and his eyes still burned with lust, but there was a thoughtful expression on his face. To me, he looked every inch a god. I lay there looking up at him, breathing hard, my heart pounding with a little nervousness and a lot of excitement. I could only imagine how I appeared to him – his willing slave, wanton and wanting, awaiting his pleasure.

 “I begin to understand what it is my brother sees in mortal women,” said Loki unexpectedly. “My dear, you look positively ravishing.”

 “Then ravish me!” I said, before I could stop myself. Then I clapped a hand to my mouth as I realized what I’d said. But Loki only smiled and climbed onto the bed next to me.

 He leaned over and kissed me, then lowered his head and took one of my nipples in his mouth. A jolt like an electric shock went through me as he sucked, and I moaned aloud. He transferred his attention to the other nipple, rubbing the first between his thumb and forefinger as he did so. He moved lower, kissing my stomach, occasionally licking or nipping lightly at my skin. I squirmed in a mixture of enjoyment and impatience, liking what he was doing but wanting more. He knew exactly what effect he was having, of course. He was doing it on purpose.

 Loki’s tongue swiped across my abdomen and then, abruptly, he sat up. “Please!” I cried out. I hadn’t meant to speak. The word burst from me before I could stop it. Loki smiled, and ran his hands over my body, from my breasts to my hips. As they strayed lower, reaching my thighs, I spread my legs eagerly, desperately, opening myself to him.

 “Keen, aren’t we?” Loki smirked. “Perhaps you would like me to touch you ... _here_?”

 As he spoke the last word he finally slid a hand between my legs, his fingers stroking my dripping folds. “Oh, yes, master, _yes_!” I moaned. I was shaking.

 “So wet for me,” Loki observed conversationally, slipping a finger inside me and moving it slowly in and out. “How does that feel, hmm?”

 “Oh ... ah ... amazing, master!” I gasped, my mind reeling with the pleasure of it.

 “Good,” he said quietly. And withdrew his hand.

 “No!” I cried in frustration. “Don’t stop! Master, please ...”

 Loki languidly put his finger in his mouth and sucked it clean of my juices. I watched him, trembling with desire. Then he grinned and said: “If there’s something you want, my pet, you’d better ask for it.”

 And I understood. He wanted me to beg. Before tonight, I’d probably have found it degrading to beg anyone for anything. But he had broken me with his exquisite teasing. I would do anything he asked, now – anything to get him to touch me again. And somehow having to beg heightened my arousal even further – as he, of course, had known it would.

 “Please, master,” I begged shamelessly. “Please touch me. Please, oh please!”

 “Where do you want me to touch?” he asked. As if he didn’t know.

 “Between my legs,” I whimpered. I was so embarrassed at having to say it – so embarrassed, but so very, very aroused.

 “And what do you want me to do to you?”

 “Please, master, I want you to ... I want you to make me come. Please!”

 “Well ... since you asked so nicely ...”

 Loki moved down between my legs, lowering himself onto his chest until his face was positioned directly in front of my sex. I felt sure I was going to explode with anticipation as he paused there, grinning that fiendish grin of his as he made me wait just a little longer. Then he spread my nether lips gently apart with his thumbs and leaned in, sliding his tongue against the entrance to my body, lapping up my copious juices. A wordless scream tore itself from my throat at the incredible sensation. I writhed in bliss and he pressed his tongue deeper, his coolness entering my burning heat. My hands clawed spasmodically at the bed-clothes as he probed me deliciously. One hand found its way to his head, my fingers tangling in his hair as I clutched him to me, trying to hold him there in case he was thinking of pulling away and tormenting me further. He seemed to have no such plans, however. He slid his tongue up the length of my slit, licking, tasting, exploring, until he reached my clitoris. He worked it with the tip of his tongue, gliding over it again and again, each flick sending a burst of sheer ecstasy through me. I had never known such rapture, never even imagined it could exist, and in that moment I surrendered myself to him completely, body and soul. He had no need to use any mind-controlling magic on me when he could do this.

 “Oh God, oh God, oh Loki,” I moaned, feeling my orgasm building rapidly. A few more licks and I was there, coming harder than ever before in my life, screaming his name. He continued to lick me as I shuddered through my climax, prolonging it as long as possible. When at last he withdrew, he was smiling.

 “Did you enjoy that?” he asked, as though there could be any doubt.

 “Oh, God, yes,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “That was _fantastic._ ”

 “They don’t call me Silver-Tongue for nothing, you know,” said Loki impishly. Then his tone became stern. “However ... I don’t _think_ I gave you permission to use my name.”

 Fear abruptly reasserted itself. He hadn’t said I could call him Loki, but I’d yelled it in the throes of passion without realizing what I was doing. Was he going to punish me now? “I’m sorry, master,” I said. “I just ... couldn’t help it.”

 “That’s alright, my pet,” Loki reassured me. He was caressing my lower belly lightly, and already my desire was rising again. How was he doing this to me? “To be honest, I rather liked hearing you calling my name. In fact, I think I’d like to hear it again.”

 “Loki,” I said. I liked saying it. I liked being allowed to.

 “Oh, no, not like that,” said Loki, smiling broadly. “The way you said it before. The way you _screamed_ it.”

 “But I was ... _oh_.” I broke off as his hand dipped down between my thighs. One long finger slipped into my soaking sex and began to glide in and out. He pressed the thumb of his other hand to my clit and began to rub it gently. I whimpered with pleasure, and he eased a second finger into me. It felt wonderful, but I wanted more. I wanted his cock. “Please, Loki ...” I whined.

 “What? What do you want?”

 “I want you to fuck me.” I said it without hesitation, without embarrassment.

 “Not yet,” he replied silkily. “First, I want to see you come just from my fingers.” I gasped as the movement of his fingers quickened. “You like that, don’t you? Answer me!”

 “Yes, Loki, oh yes!” I cried, writhing in ecstasy.

 “That’s it, squirm for me,” he purred. “Show me how much you like it. I could do this to you all night, you know – make you come over and over and over. You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

 I was. I could feel the orgasm drawing closer with every thrust of his fingers, every stroke of my clit, and every word he spoke. How did he know just what to do, just where to touch, just what to say? It was as if he could see into my mind, had studied my secret fantasies and knew exactly what to do to drive me absolutely insane.

 I mewled and moaned helplessly, watching him watch me and loving the expression of arousal on his face. My hot passage clenched around those cool, invading fingers, trying to hold onto them, to lock them inside. “Oh, Loki ... that feels so good ... Loki ... I’m ... so ... close ...”

 “Come for me,” Loki commanded. “Come for your king.”

 I did. Wave after wave of sweet sensation washed over me as orgasm surged through me again. “Loki! Loki! Loki!” I screamed. He watched me, his eyes blazing with lust. It clearly turned him on to see the pleasure he gave me. Slowly, the climax subsided, and Loki withdrew his fingers from me. As before, he proceeded to suck my juices from them, appearing to savour the taste, and looking me directly in the eyes as he did so. It was obscenely erotic.

 “Loki,” I sighed breathlessly, “Loki ... please ...”

 “Still want more, my pet?” he asked.

 “Please,” I said again. I still hadn’t recovered from having two orgasms in rapid succession – my heart thundered in my chest and I was quivering all over – but I yearned to feel him deep inside me. I had never known desire like this, desire that was desperation, that was almost madness. Nobody had ever made me feel this way before.

 Loki positioned himself between my legs and pressed the head of his cock lightly against my dripping sex, not penetrating, just resting it there. I thrust my hips urgently towards him and he pulled back, teasing. A pathetic whimpering sound escaped my throat. Loki smiled and pushed forward slowly, sliding his cool, hard length inch by inch into my wet, waiting heat. When he was completely sheathed inside me he paused, letting me get used to the sensation of his cock filling me. The feeling was indescribable.

 He covered my body with his, his belly sliding delightfully against mine, his skin cool where mine was burning hot. I was on fire and he alone could soothe the searing lust within me. He started to move in and out of me with smooth, measured thrusts. The pleasure was almost unbearable. I wrapped my legs around his hips, trying to pull him still deeper inside, and clutched him to me like my life depended on it.

 “Does that feel good?” Loki whispered in my ear.

 “Oh, _fuck_ , yes!” I groaned. “Harder, Loki ... please ... _please_ ...”

 He complied, speeding up his thrusts, each sending an explosion of ecstasy through me the like of which I’d never dreamed possible. My hips lifted of their own volition, meeting his, and I found myself grinding against him, taking him to the hilt. My body seemed almost beyond my control – lost in the pleasure he was giving me, I writhed and spasmed beneath him in a frenzy of desire.

 Loki propped himself up on his forearms, looking down at me. His blue, blue eyes were full of need as they gazed into my brown ones which, I was sure, were alight with my own longing. He pulled my arms from around him and pinned my hands to the pillows with his own, linking our fingers together. He was panting with pleasure and exertion as he rammed his cock into me, hard and deep.

 “Do you want me to come inside you?” he hissed. “Do you want me to fill your little mortal body with my god’s seed?”

 “Yes, Loki, oh yes!”

 “Tell me you want it inside you.”

 “I want your come inside me, Loki! Come inside me! Please!”

 His thrusts became faster still, and I felt my third orgasm beginning to build. I struggled against his grip on my hands, knowing it was futile but wanting to touch him, to cling to him, to rake my nails down his back. Yet even in the midst of those desires was a fierce pleasure in being restrained, in being forced to lie there helplessly, at his mercy as he had his way with me. Everything else fell away – the world no longer existed, there was nothing but he and I, here and now. I had never felt so united, so at one with another person.

 “Say my name,” said Loki.

 “Loki,” I moaned.

 “Say my name!” he demanded again, more insistently this time.

 “Loki!” I cried.

 “ _Say. My. Name!_ ” he snarled, punctuating each word with a thrust so powerful it jolted me backwards on the bed. And I hit my peak. Ecstasy flooded through me in a great, shuddering wave and I was overwhelmed by sensation, every nerve-ending alive with pleasure that originated between my legs and spread throughout my entire body.

 “LOKI!” I screamed. “LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!”

 Breathing hard, Loki drove himself into me faster still, prolonging my climax as he approached his. Then, with a groan of pleasure and a final, mighty thrust, he buried himself as deeply as he could inside me, and I felt the cool wetness of his seed spilling into me. His eyes locked with mine and he bared his teeth in his passion, his formerly sleek hair straggling across his face – he looked utterly wild and utterly wonderful. Seeing his pleasure enhanced mine, and I squirmed beneath him as he rode out his climax above me, my internal muscles gripping his hardness tight within me, milking him dry.

 At last, it was over. Still inside me, Loki sank down on top of me. A warm, languorous sense of satisfaction and content came over me as I lay there under him, drifting dreamily somewhere between exhaustion and euphoria. He released my hands and my arms snaked back around him, holding him to me. I never wanted to let him go.

 “Thank you, Loki,” I whispered.

 “Thank _you_ ,” he replied. He shifted as though to move off me, and I clung to him, trying to prevent him. He chuckled softly against my neck and settled back onto me. “Aren’t I heavy?” he asked.

 “No,” I said. “Well, I mean, you are, a bit, but I like it.”

 We lay there silently for a while, then he moved again. This time I didn’t try to hold on to him, though I wanted to. He slid out of me and rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him so that I ended up on my side with one of his arms around me. I pressed close against him and rested my head on his chest. Perhaps, I thought, now that he was sated and relaxed, he might talk to me. I wanted to know everything about him.

 “Loki?”

 “Mmm?”

 I moved my head to his shoulder so that I could look up at him as I asked tentatively: “Will you tell me something?”

 “What?”

 “Why do you want to take over Earth?”

 An expression of bitterness flitted across his face and was gone. “I was born to be a king,” he answered. “The throne of Asgard has been denied to me, so instead I shall rule here.”

 “But why _here_ , specifically? If Asgard is real, I assume the other legendary realms are too – Svartalfheim, Jotunheim ...” Loki’s jaw clenched briefly and his eyes flashed dangerously as I mentioned Jotunheim. I made a mental note not to say that word again and rushed on: “And the rest. Why not conquer one of them?”

 “Those realms are real, yes,” he said stiffly. “I chose Midgard for revenge. My brother loves this world. He has taken everything from me, so I shall take this place from him.”

 “Your brother,” I said, “Thor?”

 “Yes, _Thor_ ,” spat Loki, suddenly furious. He sat up, pushing me roughly away. “The _great_ Thor, the _mighty_ Thor, beloved of all. No doubt you’d prefer you were lying here with him, but ...”

 “No!” I broke in vehemently. It probably wasn’t a good idea to interrupt him, but beneath the anger in his voice there was hurt – an old hurt, I could tell, one that ran deep – and I couldn’t bear to think of him hurting because of me. “Loki, I’d never be interested in Thor like that. I don’t find him attractive at all. But you ...” I gestured emphatically at him, trying to indicate his obvious attractiveness. “You’re gorgeous.”

 Loki moved with supernatural speed. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my back, pinned by a strong hand crushing my chest. The other hand gripped my face so hard it was painful. Loki loomed over me, staring into my eyes with a look of intense scrutiny. “Say that again,” he demanded.

 “You’re ... gorgeous?” I choked out, scared and struggling to breathe.

 “And the part about Thor,” Loki prompted forcefully. He stopped pressing so hard on my chest, allowing me to breathe easier, but kept his tight grip on my face, continuing to study me closely.

 “I don’t ... find him ... attractive,” I squeaked.

 Loki gazed intently at me for a few seconds longer, then released me and sat back. I remained where I was, not daring to move.

 “You really mean that, don’t you?” said Loki. His anger had evaporated as quickly as it had flared – his voice was soft and almost incredulous.

 “Of ... of course,” I said hesitantly. “You’d know if I was lying, wouldn’t you?”

 “I had to check,” he replied, sounding faintly apologetic. “I couldn’t quite believe it. You see, I have lived for a thousand years, and until today I have never yet met anyone who preferred me to Thor.”

 I found that difficult to believe, but I understood the sudden scrutiny now. Slowly, I sat up and moved closer to him. When he didn’t move away, I slid my arms around him and kissed his neck. His arms encircled me in turn, and we sank back into our previous embrace. I stroked his chest, and let my hand wander lower, across the taut planes of his abdomen and down to his cock. It had softened now, but immediately began hardening again under my touch.

 “I want you,” I murmured.

 “Again?” he said. “So soon? I had no idea Midgardian women were so insatiable.”

 “For you, Loki,” I said. “Only for you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You arouse me like no-one else ever has.”

 Loki rolled on top of me, pinning me again, but gently this time, sensually. “Need I remind you that I am a god?” he said, half imperious, half playful.

 “Perhaps you should show me,” I suggested, spreading my legs invitingly. He smirked as he slid into me.

 It was different this time, slower, gentler, without the previous frenzied energy, but no less pleasurable for that. Soon I was shuddering to completion beneath him, sighing his name, and moments later he joined me in ecstasy, emptying himself into me again. He looked into my eyes as he came and, for the first time, I glimpsed something else behind the lust in his – a sincerity, a candidness.

 Afterwards, we lay entwined, basking in the afterglow. Presently, I dared to ask him another question. “Loki? Will you tell me about Asgard? Please?”

 He sighed, as though resigned to an unpleasant task, and I said hastily: “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to. It doesn’t matter.”

 “No, it’s alright,” said Loki, sounding almost amused. “What do you want to know?”

 “Everything. About Asgard, about life there ... about you.”

 And Loki began to talk. About general things, at first, things from the myths like the Rainbow Bridge known as Bifrost and Odin’s legendary spear, Gungnir. But the longer he talked, the more personal his words became. He told me of his childhood, of growing up forever in Thor’s shadow, of how nothing Loki did ever seemed to measure up or be good enough for their father, Odin. Of his accidental discovery of the fact that the Allfather was not _his_ father at all – he had been adopted by Odin and Frigga as an infant, after being found abandoned on Jotunheim. He was the natural son of Laufey, the king of the frost giants, mortal enemies of Asgard. That discovery had shattered his world. He had killed Laufey, and, in an attempt to prove to Odin that he was a worthy son, tried to destroy Jotunheim itself. Thor had prevented that, and when Odin had shown only disappointment in Loki, yet again, he had lost all hope. He had let himself fall from the Bifrost into the abyss between the stars.

 I listened in rapt attention, overwhelmed by what I was hearing. Not only because it was such a fantastical story, but because it meant he was showing himself to me, revealing the person behind the god. And I had never dreamed a god could be so vulnerable. Everything he had done, all the violence and wickedness, stemmed from his own low self-esteem, his own feelings of insecurity and inferiority. My heart ached for him. Beneath the arrogant, domineering face he showed to the world was a lonely little boy, desperately craving approval. For all his power, he was as lost as I was.

 “A being called Thanos found me floating in the void,” he concluded at last. “He gave me new purpose, promising to help me take over Midgard. He gave me my sceptre, which is linked to the Tesseract. That’s the energy source I’m going to use to open a portal for my army to come through once Selvig finishes the device he’s built it into. That should be tomorrow. Thanos is providing the army – in return, I will give him the Tesseract once I have Midgard.”

 “And what will you do then?” I wanted to know.

 “Rule,” said Loki simply.

 “Well, you have one loyal subject already,” I said. “I am completely under your spell.” I said it jokingly, but I meant it. I was his now.

 Loki propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me, his face serious. “I swear to you,” he said earnestly, “I have used no magic upon you. You are under no spell.”

 I suppressed a giggle, touched that he seemed to want me to know he had not compelled me to my actions by any tricks. “It was a figure of speech,” I explained. “I just meant I am captivated by you, and I’ll gladly be your subject.”

 “Oh.” Loki lay back down, looking thoughtful. “I wonder,” he said, “if perhaps you would care to be more than a subject?”

 “What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

 “I am asking if you would like to stay with me,” said Loki carefully.

 “Do you want me to?” I said in surprise. I hadn’t for a moment imagined his interest in me would last more than one night.

 “Yes,” said Loki. “I confess I had not expected to find myself so drawn to a mortal, but I have been very lonely for a long time, and ... and tonight, with you, that feeling is gone. I would like you to stay by my side, to keep me company, to share my bed. But let me be clear: the choice is yours. Don’t be afraid to say no. If you wish to leave, you are free to go – now, or in the morning. I will not prevent you.”

 I was stunned by his words, but could not deny the rush of joy and excitement that welled up in me as he spoke them. I searched my heart for my own loneliness, for the emptiness that had always been inside me. It was no longer there. In its place, there was Loki. In his arms I had found what, without knowing it, I had been seeking all my life.

 “If I stay,” I said, already knowing that I would, “you say I wouldn’t be a subject. What would I be? Your pet?”

 It wasn’t that I wasn’t content with that – I was. It was enough and more than enough. But I wanted to hear him say it.

 “You would be my queen,” Loki said. His voice was quiet and completely sincere.

 I gasped. To be honest, I didn’t care about being a queen. But I _did_ care that he thought enough of me to make me one.

 “Well?” said Loki. “Will you stay with me?”

 “Yes, Loki,” I said, “always.”


End file.
